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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23865139">You Can’t Afford to Lose a Minute</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/greeny1710/pseuds/greeny1710'>greeny1710</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Formula 1 RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Alternate Universe - Notting Hill Fusion, Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, Honestly that's not a tag I ever expected to write, Jos Verstappen's A+ Parenting, M/M, Panic Attacks, Sexual Content, This is basically a love letter to books</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:56:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,775</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23865139</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/greeny1710/pseuds/greeny1710</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel was just a boy running a bookshop.</p><p>Max was just a boy running from his world.</p><p>And yet, he was simply a boy, stood in front of another boy, with orange juice down his shirt, asking him to love him.</p><p>~</p><p>Or alternatively, the Notting Hill Maxiel AU no one asked for</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, Kimi Räikkönen/Sebastian Vettel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>89</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is what happens when I watch Rom-Coms. I get ideas for a Maxiel AU</p><p>Title comes from The Catcher in the Rye, also known as My Favourite Fucking Book of All Time.</p><p>I have no idea how long this will be, but we're here for shits and giggles and for some angst. </p><p>I hope you enjoy whatever this ends up becoming lmao</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He’d always loved books, even as a little boy. </p><p>The second he’d learnt to read, he was never seen without a book between his fingers. </p><p>Even as a baby, carrying around those rigid wooden books with different pictures of animals and letters in, that was Dan. </p><p>He loved the escapism, the emergence of new worlds and the desire to rebuild the current society, the novelty (if you’ll pardon the pun) of literature. </p><p>The commentary books made on the society they were living in and how dystopian it was slowly becoming. </p><p>The way that each English book was simply different combinations of the same 26 letters, built and switched in a way that created a new world between the folds of each cover. </p><p>The way that all it took was some clever graphic design and you could have a best seller, so long as people were superficial and didn’t care too much about the contents and focused more on the aesthetic, it was fine. </p><p>Dan didn’t want that. Of course he didn’t. He wanted his customers to come in and tell him about the beauty of Austen or the lyrical prose of Fitzgerald, the chaos of Vonnegut or the pure arrogance of Salinger. </p><p>However, he wasn’t dumb. </p><p>He knew what this world was. </p><p>It was a world that moved too fast and full of people that enjoyed reading but couldn’t find the time to dedicate to the art form fully, letting mountains of novels stack up on their bedside tables only to be moved to the living room and displayed to demonstrate how cultured they were. </p><p>And as much as that frustrated Dan, as long as they kept spending money in his quaint little bookstore and paid him enough that he could pay his rent and also feed himself, he’d suffer through it. </p><p>Not to say that all customers did that. Some of them were simply lovely. </p><p>There was that delightful young Italian man who came in every third Sunday of the month, perusing the shelves before he’d walk over to Dan and ask him what he recommends. He’d buy it, spend a few weeks reading it, and then come back for another.</p><p>And then there was the Dad that came in with his kids every couple of weeks and the three boys would bounce at the counter waiting for Dan to show them the new stock of pop up books and kid’s novels he’d got in. The Dad, Romain, would buy the books and the boys would clutch their books in their fingers, thanking Mr Dan profusely and already flicking through the stories, giggling at the pop ups and running to the last page to see what happened. </p><p>Lando was often lounging around, his legs flung over the arm of one of the chairs Dan had set up in the corner, as he tapped away on his tablet or laptop, depending if he was designing graphics or writing an essay for either aspect of his university course. </p><p>And where Lando was, Tall Dark and Handsome Spanish Boy was never far behind. And even though Dan had still yet to find out his name, the man always popped in, buying a book before falling into a seat opposite Lando and distracting him from his work. He didn’t even need to speak. His presence alone could distract Lando. </p><p>Sometimes he had university students popping by, asking him his prices for textbooks. George and Alex were two of his favourite students, both polite and funny young men who got along great with Lando, slowly pulling him out of his cocoon of loneliness and fear. Alex was studying Architecture and George was studying Business and International Relations, and honestly, when Dan hefted the bricks of textbooks out of the back and through to the counter for the youngsters to pick up, he was thankful that all he’d ever done was buy pretty copies of novels that he’d then scribble all over, highlight and sticky tab up with all his little thoughts and feelings. </p><p>English Literature was a breeze compared to the bricks these boys hefted around, but they always smiled and thanked Dan for his service. </p><p>It’s what made running the quaint little bookshop so nice. </p><p>He’d taken over the shop from his grandmother. A soft little Italian lady who’d owned the shop since before Daniel was born, since before even his mother was born. Retired back to Naples now that she knew it was in Dan’s trusty hands. </p><p>It was simply named ‘Treasure’ and Daniel had always thought it to be true. </p><p>Tucked away in a corner of Notting Hill, only eighteen yards from his front door, sat his bookshop. He’d recently repainted it after the stripping paint had started to fall too much and all he was left with was a dilapidated and tatty looking building. It had taken hours of work, balancing running into the shop to help customers with also stripping, sanding, priming and painting the shop front again. </p><p>Lando helped where he could, when he had some hours between lectures or needed a day off because the world was a bit too much today and sitting in a stuffy lecture hall made him want to hide. He wasn’t exactly tall enough to do most of the work, but he helped with what he could and he liked the monotony of stripping and sanding. </p><p>They both did. </p><p>And they had to admit, the end result was beautiful. </p><p>Where it had once been a dull duck egg blue it was now a deep navy, a dark contrast to its vibrant sunshine and cotton candy neighbours that bookended him (if you’ll pardon the pun). Daniel knew it was a treasure of a shop, living up to its name and making him smile whenever he looked out of the window of his townhouse and saw it happily existing opposite. </p><p>Whilst Notting Hill was a lovely neighbourhood, there wasn’t much footfall traffic. </p><p>And that was nice, it really was. It was a quiet little area that came alive when it was the carnival or pride or the market was there. Dan would just like it if the footfall traffic turned up a bit more often. </p><p>He’d never anticipated that spilling orange juice down a boy’s shirt would be the way it happened. </p><p>He’d always anticipated that one day he’d end up on one of those ‘hidden gems of London’ lists that industries like Buzzfeed created and ended up becoming fans with the hipsters. And he knew he’d have to contest with young people that did the whole ‘oh I just read this <i>amazing</i> book, I doubt you’ve heard of it’, only for it to come out that they’d read the ‘hidden gem’ of <i>Pride and Prejudice</i>. </p><p>Honestly, Dan was going to be impressed the day that someone under the age of 60 came in and told him about <i>One Day in the life of Ivan Denisovich</i>. Then he’d let the young hipsters off with their ‘cult classics’. </p><p>But he never judged. He really didn’t. If anything, he actually enjoyed it. There was something endlessly endearing about people that came into <i>a bookshop</i> and questioned whether the bookseller himself knew about books that you didn’t need an English Literature degree to have discovered. </p><p>Of course Dan had read them, it was required reading. </p><p>Literally. </p><p>First year, first term, second week, read the entirely of Pride and Prejudice and complete a 1500 word essay using a literary lens. </p><p>(Dan had chosen Marxism)</p><p>(He still got emails from his lecturer asking questions about it)</p><p>(Apparently it was used as an example essay)</p><p>(Dan didn’t understand but he let them get on with it)</p><p>And yet, Dan had never expected to be the protagonist in his great romance novel. </p><p>He’d always though he’d be a side character. That joker that was there for comedic relief and forgotten by the end of the novel when the pages closed for the final time and all he was transpired to be a thrown in comment on a review of ‘oh that side character was a laugh but could be annoying if he’d been the main character’. </p><p>That was fine. If anything, Dan would quite like it. </p><p>(He hoped he was the sidekick in Lando’s lovestory. He deserved to be happy)</p><p>(Or Alex and George)</p><p>(Most likely, he was going to be that friend that was mentioned as being constantly invited over and then remembered as background member of Seb and Kimi’s love story and they’d been together longer than Dan had known them)</p><p>But that was okay.</p><p>Because Dan wasn’t main character material. </p><p>Except…</p><p>Now he was?</p><p>And he wasn’t entirely sure what that meant anymore…</p><p>He wasn’t used to being the main character.</p><p>He was the bookseller that brought a happy couple together.</p><p>He was the customer at the coffee shop that helped pay a wage to bring a man home to his wife.</p><p>He was the one that was written in and then written out of existence. </p><p>Except now he wasn’t.</p><p>He was the main character.</p><p>There was no backspace. </p><p>No delete. </p><p>No chance to start the chapter again if he messed up and said the wrong thing. </p><p>He was in his own love story.</p><p>And he didn’t know what to do with that.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I tried something a little different with the writing here, so let me know if it was shit or not lmao</p><p>Kudos, comments and feedback always greatly appreciated❤️</p><p>Tumblr at 3303andmore if you want to recommend me more RomComs that would be hilarious as a Maxiel AU lmao</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>lmao I'm finally back with chapter 2 of this, I hope you enjoy it bc I am excited for what's to come👀</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>His Grandmother had trusted Daniel to keep <i>Treasure</i> alive. </p><p>And Dan would do everything in his power to do so. </p><p>He’d taken on a roommate (or more, Lando had looked at him with soft eyes as he told him his uni accommodation was too loud and had let the little shit move in with him without question), he only bought stock he knew would sell, he didn’t spend luxuriously and he avoided take out as much as possible to keep the numbers balanced.</p><p>The only issue being his aforementioned roommate. </p><p>Dan was sat at the small glass counter, going through the accounting books and checking his maths to check his income-outcome for the last month was balanced appropriately, hopefully with income even being slightly higher. It was a quiet day, the door propped open and letting the noise of Notting Hill filter through. The noise was melding with the soft playlist that Daniel had playing in the background, and every time a child’s laughter hit his ears, he smiled involuntarily. </p><p>The sound of a child’s laughter would forever be the purest form of happiness in this world. </p><p>Part of him melted at the idea of one day being a little child’s Papa. </p><p>But that had to wait.</p><p>The shop came first. </p><p>It would probably help if he found a partner too. </p><p>“Dan? Do you want a drink?” Lando asked, interrupting Daniel’s careful calculations. </p><p>“Mate, I can barely afford to buy enough food so that I don’t starve, I’m not buying take away coffee, we have perfectly good coffee in the back,” Dan replied, never once looking up as he continued to scribble across his papers. </p><p>“Daniel please, I want coffee, <i>good coffee</i>. And no offence but that shit in the back is God awful.” Lando whined, and Daniel chose to ignore him. He’d heard it all before. </p><p>This is what he meant when he said he had an issue with his roommate. </p><p>Lando was so fucking persistent. And when Lando wanted coffee, what he really meant was he wanted to go and see Seb and Kimi, buy a drink and hope that he could blag a free cookie or two along the way. Maybe even a brownie if Lando whipped out his puppy dog eyes and gave Seb a sob story about how swamped he was with university work and hadn’t eaten all day and Dan was being a moody roommate who didn’t let him have fun. </p><p>Daniel hated taking the freebies off his friends. He worked hard, putting every penny of money and energy into the shop, and he didn’t want to be freeloading off his friends as a way of doing everything else. Take away coffee was nice, and the one that Seb made was infinitely better than anything else Dan had ever tasted, and it was a godsend in comparison to the shit he kept in the back. Lando was right about that at least. </p><p>But it didn’t mean that he wanted to keep going to his friend’s shop. </p><p>Every time he went he was reminded of the failure that was his own shop.</p><p>People didn’t use bookstores like they used to.</p><p>People still used coffee shops like they always have.</p><p>Books could be ordered online. Books were cheaper that way. </p><p>And Dan didn’t blame them. Money was tight for everyone some days, and it couldn’t be helped that buying books wasn’t exactly a priority for people anymore. </p><p>He’d be fucked, however, if he let <i>Treasure</i> fall to the waste side and have his Grandmother come back from Italy just to berate him for ruining her blessed shop simply because he was moody about the uprising of online selling. </p><p>“Lando, if you want coffee, buy yourself some, but I’m not buying any, I can’t afford it, kid,” Dan admitted, looking up from the books and seeing the put-out expression on Lando’s face, “I’m sorry, kid, I just can’t okay? But if you want to go and see Seb and Kimi and ask them for coffee you are my guest. You can leave me alone in the shop, mate, nothing is going to happen in the five minutes you will be gone.”</p><p>Dan doubted anything would happen if Lando was going for five hours. </p><p>Business was…</p><p>Was there an adjective that meant ‘slower than fucking slow’? </p><p>You’d think Dan would know, being an English Literature Graduate. </p><p>But he didn’t.</p><p>He could name countless books. </p><p>Could figure out the title based on a vague synopsis a lot of the time. </p><p>He’d even recite the first chapter of Pride and Prejudice if you asked him nicely. </p><p>And yet, he was absolutely clueless about whether there was a word meaning ‘slower than fucking slow’.</p><p>Where was Shakespeare and his ability to create new words because he needed one when <i>he</i> needed him most? </p><p>“I’m gonna buy you a cappuccino, okay?”</p><p>“Lando-”</p><p>“No arguments. You’re grouchy, and you’re being moody and I don’t like it, and I want you to cheer up. So, I’m going to buy you a coffee and you are going to shut the hell up and then tonight once we close the shop, we will make shitty frozen pizza and we’ll watch rom-coms until we’re crying about missing boys. Sound good?”</p><p>“Sounds pretty gay,” Dan told him, but the soft smile told him otherwise. </p><p>“Did you forget the fact that we are, in fact, pretty gay?”</p><p>“Never forgot, Lando, just saying doesn’t exactly sound like what two young eligible bachelors should be doing on a Wednesday night.”</p><p>“I think you forget that you are, for one, not young, and secondly, <i>we</i>  don’t socialise, okay.”</p><p>“You’re young, you should socialise.”</p><p>“You’re old, you should socialise,” Lando cheeked back, flying out of the door as Dan threw his pen with alarming precision at Lando’s retreating back. </p><p>“Little cunt,” Dan quietly murmured, no one around but himself and the literature to hear it. </p><p>Paying In = +£304.57<br/>Paying Out = -£287.02<br/>Profit = +£17.55</p><p>Why did everything have to be so damn complicated?</p><p>Dan folded his arms across the service table and dropped his head onto them. </p><p>It would have all been so much easier if he’d have just studied engineering or medicine like everyone told him to. </p><p>He’d have been a hot doctor…</p><p>Surrounded by nurses and doctors and patients, never having a moments peace to even think about picking up a novel, let alone being the one to sell it. </p><p>If he’d have been a doctor he wouldn’t have had time to think about what he was missing. </p><p>Except now, as he sat in his quaint little bookshop and could see his house eighteen yards away, with the little blue door that he and his ex had bought before he left Dan for a man that looked distinctly like Liam Neeson, only younger, and more attractive, he wished he could pretend to know what he was missing. </p><p>His current state of affairs and position lead him to know precisely what he was missing. </p><p>He was surrounded by the one thing that he missed </p><p>Passion</p><p>Love</p><p>Happiness</p><p>Happy Endings</p><p>And he was the guy with nothing. </p><p>He didn’t have a mysterious past. </p><p>He didn’t have the fun loving hopeful future with a lover who draped themselves across furniture and laughed at Daniel. </p><p>He didn’t have love</p><p>And that’s what he missed. </p><p>Until that moment, when <i>he</i> walked into the shop.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>:)</p><p>It's been a hot minute since I left it on a cliffhanger lmao</p><p>Kudos, comments and Feedback always greatly appreciated💙</p><p>Tumblr is at 3303andmore if you wanna yell about books and love lives :')</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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